"All that can be replaced, Aunt Bet," I said, shocked she would even think of making a comparison. A fiery rush of blood heated my face. "Can you bring back my mommy and daddy? Can you?" I cried, the hot tears streaming down my cheeks,
"All right, dear," she said, cowering back. "I'm sorry I upset you." She flicked a smile at some people who were leaving. "We'll discuss it tomorrow. Please tell Richard to come down to see me," she said and left me quickly to say good-bye to some members of the hotel staff.
I pivoted and quickly charged back upstairs. Richard was already in Jefferson's room. When I threw open the door, I found him rearranging Jefferson's closet.
"LEAVE HIS THINGS ALONE!" I screamed. Richard stopped and scowled at me. "Aunt Bet wants to see you immediately. You will not be moving your things in here tonight," I said firmly. "Now get out." I stepped back, standing firmly as a rooted tree, and pointed.
"This room isn't half as nice as the room I had," he muttered.
"Then don't bother coming into it again," I said to his back. He hurried down the corridor and the stairs. Jefferson was standing in my doorway, his face streaked from tears, his eyes drooping with fatigue and confusion.
"Come on, Jefferson," I said. "I'll get you ready for your own bed now."
"Where's Richard going?" he asked.
"To blazes for all I care," I said and helped my little brother wash and dress for another night on this earth without his parents.
When I returned to my room, I was surprised to find Aunt Fern sorting through the clothes in my closet.
"Aunt Fern," I cried. I looked around and didn't see her boyfriend. "What are you doing?"
"Hello, princess." She flashed a silly smile at me. I didn't have to draw too close to smell the odor of whiskey. "I was just looking at some of your sweaters. You've got some nice stuff. I especially like this watch," she said, holding up her left wrist. "Can I borrow it a while?" It was my birthday present from Mommy and Daddy.
"Take that off!" I cried. "That was my last present from Mammy and Daddy."
"Oh." She wobbled.
"You can have anything else," I said. "Please."
"Hold your water," she replied and struggled to get it off her wrist, nearly ripping the band apart. She dropped it harshly on the bed. I scooped it up quickly, vowing to myself never to take it off my wrist again. "You could be a little nicer to me," she moaned. "I'm leaving and who knows when you'll see me again."
"Aren't you going to stay overnight?"
"There were some end-of-the-year parties at some fraternities I wanted to attend," she said. She sauntered over to my vanity table and inspected my perfumes and colognes.
"You really aren't going to attend summer school like you promised Daddy, are you?" I asked.
"No," she said. "I'm going to spend the summer with some of my spoiled, rich friends on Long Island. I've already told Philip and told him where to send my allowance. But I don't think he heard much of what I said, so I'm sure I'll be calling Dorfman."
"But I thought you had to make up the courses you failed this year," I said.
She spun around.
"You know you're just like an old lady . . . nag, nag, nag. When I was sixteen, I had already lost my virginity." She laughed at the expression on my face. "You read the chapter, didn't you? Didn't you?" she accused. "That's all right, keep your little secrets," she said bitterly, "everyone else in this family does. Your mother certainly did."
"Don't you say anything nasty about my mother," I spat back at her. She wobbled again and shook her head.
"It's time you stopped living like Alice in Wonderland. Your mother and Daddy grew up living in the same room, practically on top of each other until she was sixteen, and after that, she fell in love with Philip without knowing he was her brother. What do you think they did on their dates, play paint-by-numbers? Of course, they would keep all that secret, but I never let any of them tell me what to do. None of them are better than me."
"That's not true; that's not true about my mother and Uncle Philip," I said. She shrugged.
"Ask him one day," she said. "And while you're at it, ask him about all the times he walked in on me while I was dressing and he claimed he was looking for Jimmy or Dawn.
"Take one look at his wife, Christie, and you can understand why he looks elsewhere."
"That's terrible, Aunt Fern. I know you're drunk again and you're saying horrible things because of that, but it's not a good enough excuse anymore. I don't want to hear any more," I said.
She laughed.